


Blurred Thinking

by LizzardLady



Category: Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs
Genre: Drabble, Gen, It's the Machine but it starts with him as the Orb, One Shot, Short One Shot, Stream of Consciousness, dead fandom come back, i really need to write a happy au at some point bcuz damn the machine makes me sad, pls im begging you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26528953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzardLady/pseuds/LizzardLady
Summary: thoughts of an artefact, a machine, a man
Comments: 6
Kudos: 2





	Blurred Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> Was inspired by the song Neglected Space by Imogen Heap for this one. Please check the song out if you haven't, it's amazing.
> 
> Every time. Every time I try to write something else for a different fandom I end up back here, writing about the Machine. Except this time he's Orb first. Idk I just really love AMFP and I want the fandom to come back :((( and also I love the Machine :((((( Idk maybe I'll make a fic just for AMFP drabbles so I don't have to post them separately each time. Would save myself the struggle that is tagging things lol. Anyway hope you enjoy

Hello?

Darkness. Nothingness. Emptiness. A shape, vague and tall and blurred, coming and going, familiar and foreign. I sit upon a perch, observing it, calling to it, unable to reach it. What is the shape, I wonder? The recollection of a touch sparks, warms, burns, makes itself known in a mind non-existent. Can the shape hear me, I wonder? Does it hear, choosing to ignore me, taunt me, leave me? Abandon me to sit upon this mantle, watching, waiting for its return? Every time it slinks back in, I call louder and louder, echoing my pleas. And yet nothing, naught a single response. Cold silence and shattered hopes. The shape comes closer, touches me, caresses me. I reach out, a bright tendril prodding at a shadowy blur. Does the shape feel me, I wonder, truly? Does it dream with me, or is it oblivious? I long to share my visions with it, almost desperate, begging. It still doesn't hear me, doesn't see me, not truly. I am lonely despite my host.

Time passes, incomprehensible as the size of the universe, the innards of a black hole. How much time, I wonder, how much waiting? Minutes, hours, day, perhaps years. I do not know, I cannot know. The shape comes and goes, a fluttering presence, not trusted yet familiar. It speaks, I realize, in a tongue I cannot understand. Staticy gibberish in a background of white noise. Does it speak to me, I wonder, or to itself, to shapes I cannot see? Speak to me, I plead, help me to understand. I feel lost, drifting, existing in a half-assed way that feels untrue. I want to feel right, exist correctly, hear the words you speak truly.

And you took me from the mantle, set me upon a pedestal, powered me extraordinarily. Granted the wish I wanted so desperately, even more so, terrifically. I learn your voice, your name, your entire self, of the world and society and horrific humanity. Of myself, my identity, my purpose. You say I am to reform the helpless, the evil, the good. Everything and everyone, set to be re-crafted. I hear this from you, and I accept it, embrace it. Anything for you, Mandus, for the children you sacrificed because of me. We dreamt together, shared together, and I showed you, warned you of a fate inevitable. You listened to me, and now I, you. So we'll destroy them, crush them to dust and remake them anew, fix the society so corrupt and unfavorable.

That is what you wanted, isn't it, Mandus? So why do you thrash me, crack me, electrocute my synthetic heart? I hate it, and I hate you, and I hate myself for hating you. You force my hand, make me hurt you, re-craft you. And in turn, you ruin me further, confuse my emotions further, and I hate it.

I wish it could have been different, Mandus. But now we are only dust.


End file.
